


Skin and Scale

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Mild Blood, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2603135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madame Vastra does not understand human grooming behaviors.</p>
<p>Or, the one in which Jenny has a bit of a shaving/submissive kink, and gets her wife to help out with both.</p>
<p>The blood involved is just a shaving cut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin and Scale

For all that Madame Vastra is the Great Detective, there are some mysteries that she cannot solve.

Strax's animosity to the Moon. The pleasure some humans seem to draw from abusing their fellows. Cotton candy. (The Doctor had decided to treat them to a carnival on a planet where 1950s Americana is the height of fashion. A war had nearly broken out. Purely by coincidence.)

But she is getting distracted, she knows, because the puzzle quite literally nearest at hand is why, precisely, Jenny Flint sometimes shaves her pubic hair. 

“Get on with it then,” Jenny urges her, rubbing her bare arms with her hands. “You were the one who said you didn't have any patience with drawn-out scientific analysis and preferred to dig right in.”

Vastra smirks as she recognizes her own words being thrown back at her. Usually her wife's memory for detail is an asset in her favor. “Yes, my dear,” Vastra says, working the shaving soap into a rich lather with both hands. The hair on her head, she knows, Jenny cuts because otherwise it becomes unwieldy. The two fine, dark hairs that grew next to her beauty spot were plucked because they tickled. Otherwise, Jenny is usually willing to leave well enough alone. The back of her hand brushes the fine hairs on Jenny's calf as she rubs the lather in. Jenny fidgets with pleasure on her stool, as she does so. 

Hm, Vastra wonders as she rinses her hands in the bowl of warm water. A hypothesis begins to form in the back of her mind. “Do you remember where we got this razor?” she asks as she hones the blade on the strop. 

Jenny quivers with anticipation. “Is that one of Sweeney Todd's?” Vastra nods but doesn't say anything; now she is too focused on the task at hand. Careful fingers guide the blade, one hand pressed against her wife's loins to steady herself. She can feel the muscles tense and she smiles, removing the short, dark hair down to pale skin, so different from her own. “I should remember, given that I nearly got turned into a meatpie.” 

“I promise to be far more tender with you,” Vastra pledges. Her brows furrow. “He did not seem to appreciate the irony of being fed into his own machine. I, on the other hand, had lunch for a week.” Jenny chuckles in spite of everything, and the blade catches just as Vastra removes the last of the hair. Jenny's laugh turns into a hiss as Vastra draws the razor back. 

Blood oozes up from the tiny cut as she wipes her wife clean with a soft, damp cloth. “Don't get any ideas, madame,” Jenny jokes weakly, a tremor of arousal in her voice. Vastra knows better; her wife has been hoping for this moment for weeks, and has probably orchestrated the entire event to feed into her kinks.

“No?” Vastra asks as she presses a kiss to the nicked flesh. “No ideas at all?” The tang of the blood mixes with nervous sweat, and she dips her head down to other, more familiar flavors. Jenny moans and locks her legs around Vastra's shoulders to steady herself. No, she thinks, even as her tongue snakes into her lover, no mere ideas but knowledge. Now, she surmises gleefully, she knows the answer to her little riddle.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Vastra is probably fascinated by human hair, just because it's so different; possibly there will be a tragic quasi-sequel to this one in which she has a piece of jewelry made from a lock of Jenny's hair after she is dead (this was apparently a thing in Victorian England) as part of the mourning/grieving process. 
> 
> Apparently women didn't start shaving their legs until dresses became less modest (and razor companies realized they were missing half the market). So in that sense Jenny is a product of her times. But she also cuts her hair, which would have been much less common, because she has a good and practical reason for it.


End file.
